Hate Me
by HeartsHungBehind
Summary: Klaine w/ alcoholic!Blaine. Take on Hate Me by Blue October. Blaine knows that hurting Kurt means he needs to go, to start his life over. Looks like Kurt will have to do the same. Includes Klaine and Kum. Multiple OCs. AU. Rated M.
1. So Far

**A/N- A warning to anyone who follows me and is expecting fluff: This is most definitely not fluff.**

**This fic is based on the song Hate Me by Blue October, one of my favorite bands. Go listen to it, it's a good song. It'll help you understand where I'm going with this too. This story is gonna be pretty angsty for my standards, and features drunk!Blaine throughout a good chunk of it. So if that isn't what you were expecting, this is the time to go...**

**Disclaimer: I don't and never will own Glee... But I will someday marry Chord Overstreet. That is for sure.**

"Blaine? Blaine, it's David. You were acting weird last night, Wes and I were getting worried. I just wanted to check in on you, see if you were alright. Call me back later, man, we should talk if something's bothering you. Bye, Blaine."

The message ended, and silence once again filled the empty house. Tears spilled from Kurt's blue eyes as he hit the erase button on the answering machine. Blaine would never come back to listen to it anyway.

It surprised Kurt that Blaine hadn't told his friends that he was leaving. Maybe it had been a snap decision, made in the middle of the night through a drunken haze. Blaine made most decisions through a drunken haze these days.

Kurt sighed and wiped gingerly at his tears, going to the bathroom in search of a tissue. He caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and couldn't help but let out a small gasp. He looked like walking death. His usually perfect hair was disheveled, and his flushed face was marred by streaking tears. One eye was bloodshot from the salty droplets, while the other was still black and swollen from the night before.

Kurt searched for a washcloth in the cabinet below the sink. He pulled out a worn old rag and walked through the living room, hoping there was still ice in the freezer. Kurt had to step around glass as he went. The shards were scattered across the floor, the liquor staining the wallpaper where the bottles had been thrown only a few hours ago. On the way, he passed the calendar pinned against the wall. He let out a curse as he saw the date, running to the phone. He would need to make a call before taking care of his eye.

One ring. Two. Three. It stopped suddenly, and a woman cleared her throat. "Hello?"

"Candice?" Kurt's voice was unnaturally shy. "I- I can't make it today."

He heard a hand slam against wood. His agent was always easily frustrated. "What? Kurt, sweetie, that's not an option. This commercial could be your big break!" Candice sounded angry, but pleading. "Give me one good reason why you can't go."

Tears rolled down Kurt's smooth cheeks. "Candice, please, I just can't!" He let out a choked sob, and her tone immediately changed to that of a caring mother.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" She was slowly becoming more and more frantic. "Did something happen to your dad again?" He gave a clipped reply, telling her his father was fine. "Was it- Oh, sweetie, are you and Blaine having problems?" Kurt started crying harder, and the shaking was making it hard to keep the phone to his ear. "Oh god, what happened?"

Kurt shook his head. "Now just isn't a good time, okay? I'll tell you when I'm ready to start looking for work again."

He knew Candice was probably pursing her lips, craving information in the way only she could. Kurt was lucky the woman liked him, or she would be making demands like there was no tomorrow. "Alright, call me as soon as you're ready. And Kurt?"

He sniffled. "Yeah?"

"I'm saying this as a friend, honey. Maybe you and Blaine should take a break for a while."

Kurt let out a strange sound, halfway between a laugh and a sob. "Trust me, that won't be a problem. Bye, Candice." He hung up without waiting for a reply and went to the kitchen. The sooner he got some ice on this bruise, the less likely it would be around for much longer.

* * *

Blaine finished pumping a tank of gas and climbed back into his car, speeding off toward the highway. He could make it to New York City today, traffic permitting. He gripped the steering wheel, the dull ache in his knuckles a constant reminder of what he had done. But that was something he would need to forget, and soon. It would be better for everyone that way.

He didn't really have a plan for when he reached New York. Blaine knew he would need to find a place to live, and a job. He had taken a lot of his life savings with him when he left, stopping at the bank as soon as it opened that morning, but he knew it wouldn't last long in the Big Apple. He had about a month or two's worth of rent, not including food (and more importantly, alcohol) expenses.

Blaine knew it would all work out though. That's why he left, right? He needed a fresh start, and this was the only way to get one. And if it didn't work out... Well, that was what the alcohol was for. When he didn't get accepted to the college he wanted, he drank. When he tried his music career but no label would take him, he drank. Whenever Kurt started nagging him about _god knows what_, he drank. And the night before, when his friends had been talking about all the great things they were doing with their lives, he drank. _A lot._ Enough to hurt the love of his life.

That's when Blaine knew it was time to go. Kurt was too good for him, he deserved better. Kurt had dreams, and a future. What did Blaine have? A failed attempt at stardom and a bottle in each hand.

He was gonna change though. And he needed to leave to do it. "I'll just drive away. So _fucking far_, he'll have to forget about me." And as Blaine crossed the Ohio State boarder, he knew that would have to be enough.

**A/N- Review? Please?**


	2. Kind Acts

**A/N- Did anybody else see the scenes for next week's Glee? Umm... I just about died. And anyone who saw will probably understand why.**

**Side note: This chapter features the second of what could be multiple OCs. I haven't really decided how many there will be yet, but this one is a pretty major role, and the comic relief of the whole story. Without this character, the whole thing would be way too dry for my taste. So enjoy!**

"He did what?" Mercedes threw down the laundry she yelled into the phone. "Nobody hurts my baby. Where is that son of a bitch?"

Kurt muttered into the receiver that he had already skipped town. Mercedes was angry enough to punch a hole in the wall, but she knew that wasn't what Kurt needed at a time like this. "I'm driving to Westerville now, I'll be there in less than two hours. I"m calling Rachel, she needs to hear about this shit."

"No sweetie, just leave it be." Kurt's speech was slurred like he hadn't slept in ages. It had been three days ago that this whole mess started, but his eyes hadn't lost their ability to make tears until this morning. "I don't want to worry Rachel, and besides, how is she gonna help from New York? She can't just fly in to take care of me." He sighed heavily, and Mercedes could hear his voice shaking on the other end of the call. "I have more important things to worry about than whether or not Rachel knows, anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Well clearly I need to find a new place to live! We were paying for the house with the money Blaine's parents gave us before cutting him off. There wasn't much left, but it was enough to live on and... Blaine took all of it when he..." Kurt let the sentence trail off, never wanting to finish it. "I can't pay for this place without him."

Mercedes didn't even need to think about her next words. "Move in with me."

"What? Cedes, I don't want to imp-"

"You won't be imposing, Kurt. I'm offering. The sooner we get you away from that house, the better. You don't need to be surrounded by memories of _him_." The word left a bad taste in her mouth, and she spit it with contempt. Mercedes ran into the spare bedroom of her apartment, grabbing handfuls of things to move. "Will it take you long to get here, or will you need to get rid of his crap first?"

Kurt took a deep breath, and she wished she were there to comfort her best friend. "He took a lot of his stuff with him. Clothes, family possessions, stuff like that."

"Well then take everything you absolutely need and get your white ass over here. I'm clearing space for you now." The woman grabbed her design book and sewing machine, dragging both out into the living room. Her workshop would have to move temporarily. "I gotta finish cleaning, get to Lima soon. I love you, Kurt."

"Love you too. Thank you Mercedes."

"Don't thank me, you would do the same thing. Bye Kurt." She closed her cell phone and threw it on the couch carelessly. Mercedes dropped her head to her hands, fighting the urge to scream. She knew things had been bad lately, but _this? _If she ever found Blaine, she'd kill him.

* * *

Blaine tried to stretch. His back aching after spending another night in his car. His legs were numb and his greasy curls were flattened against the driver's seat, but the worst part of it all was the migraine. It was hard enough to get over a hangover, and not getting s good night's sleep didn't help much.

Blaine considered washing it away with one of the warm beers in the back seat, but decided against it. He would have plenty of time for a drink later. He decided he should probably be sober for this anyway. Checking the address in the Classifieds one last time, Blaine climbed out of his car and approached one of the tall brick buildings.

The door opened with a creak, and Blaine found himself in a small foyer. Another door, this one locked, barred his entrance, but the newspaper ad had told him what to do. He found the intercom button for room 27B and rang the buzzer. The man waited, tapping his foot and considering leaving before a voice rang out from the small speaker. "Who's there?"

Blaine's brow furrowed in confusion. "Uhh... My name is Blaine Anderson. I'm here about a room."

"Oh. Come on up then." The locked door gave a click, and Blaine slipped inside. He ran up a flight of stairs, then down the hall until he found the right room. A tall blonde stood in the doorway, her arms crossed as she leaned against the door frame.

"Are you... Spencer Gellart?"

The woman smirked. "Yeah, that's me. Why, were you expecting any different?" She raised an eyebrow so that it arched just above the purple rims of her glasses.

"Well... To be honest, I thought you were a guy."

Spencer laughed, looking down at the cleavage barely concealed by her low-cut top. "You were clearly mistaken. Are you gonna look at the apartment or what?"

Blaine nodded and walked forward, but stopped short at the door. "Are you sure? I bet this would make some girls uncomfortable..." He was trying his best to act like his old chivalrous self, the one people used to admire.

Spencer rolled her blue eyes and ushered Blaine inside. "Look, I'm in need of cash _fast_. I would room with anyone at this point, as long as they can help pay the rent on time. Besides, I'm not really ashamed to have boys around, if you catch my drift." She gave him a wink and looked him up and down, as if she were inspecting a new car to buy.

Blaine raised his hands defensively, trying to avoid her gaze. "I'm gay."

"Oh, hey, that's cool." Spencer took a step back, bowing her head slightly. "Maybe that's for the better, I know you won't be thinking dirty things when I walk around half dressed." She laughed and started giving Blaine a quick tour. "Bathroom. My room. Living room." She spun on the spot, pointing to different rooms as she went. "Spare room. And... Kitchen." The blonde threw up her arms, gesturing to the room around them. "That's it. The rent is a little steep, but it's really a great building and-"

Blaine, started nodding, trying to cut the woman off. "I can give you my half of this month's rent up front." He reached into the front pocket of his dirty jeans, pulling out crumpled bills.

"Woah, slow down there buddy. So you'll stay here?" He nodded again. Spencer smiled wide and brushed her short blonde bangs behind her ears. "It's settled then. Put your money away, we can work out the fine details later."

"Alright." Blaine started scoping out the apartment, paying a lot of attention to the bathroom .He could really use a shower, and maybe Spencer had some aspirin in her medicine cabinet that he could use. "When can I move in?"

"Now is as good a time as any. Do you want me to help you move from your old place?"

Blaine laughed bitterly. "If by that you mean, 'Do you want me to help you move boxes from your car,' then yes, that would be appreciated."

Spencer nodded, a little surprised by his blunt response. It made her wonder what brought this man to her doorstep in the first place. "Well we can do that later, I guess. Why don't you go get cleaned up and I'll take you out to lunch? You did just help me pay this month's bills, after all."

* * *

"So, this is where you work?" The two had left the apartment on West 112th street to go to a small cafe on Lexington, a walk that Spencer claimed wasn't far but left Blaine breathless.

"Yeah. I'm studying at NYU to go into forensics, but I need to make a living somehow. Plus, I get a discount, which really helps on those nights when studying is more important than cooking. Blaine nodded with understanding. He knew what it felt like to have one need beat out another. They got inside the warm shop, and Blaine immediately ordered a coffee and a sandwich on hearty bread. The sandwich was because he was getting hungrier by the minute, and the coffee was to chase away the last bits of his hangover. Spencer made friendly conversation with the older man working the counter, but soon the two were sitting in velvet chairs while sipping their hot drinks.

"So, forensics. That must be cool." Blaine tried to find out as much about Spencer as he could, wanting to hold off on giving her too much of his own information. She was making the subject of his past very unavoidable, however.

"Yeah, it's great. I've always loved forensics, I'm a giant NCIS dork. So what about you? Where is Blaine Anderson from?"

He took a long gulp of coffee, figuring that single words would supply enough for her hungry mind. "Ohio. Westerville."

"Cute. Never been there, I hear it's quaint though." He nodded and turned back to his coffee, but she wasn't done yet. "Why did you leave?" Spencer cursed herself internally for asking such a probing question right off the bat. She knew he would never give her the full answer now.

Blaine was silent for a while. He thought about ignoring the question entirely, but figured that would come back to bite him in the ass later. "Personal stuff." The way he said it let Spencer know that she probably wouldn't get the back story for quite some time.

* * *

"_Fucking David, thinks he's so perfect. Throws a fucking party just because he got a promotion!" _

_Kurt rolled his eyes as Blaine slumped on the couch, slurring like he hadn't had a sober moment in years. "You should be happy for him. He's your friend."_

"_Oh, is that so?" Anger flickered behind Blaine's dark eyes like a fire, one that could burn someone to the very core. "Just like I'm supposed to be happy for you? You, with your stupid little _audition_?" He got off the couch and started to saunter up to his boyfriend, who shivered on the spot. "Do you think I _honestly _give a damn about you people?"_

"_Don't act like you hate us just because we've found success and you couldn't!" Kurt regretted the words as soon as the left his lips. The fire in Blaine's eyes grew, becoming an inferno. He pulled back his lips to reveal gritted teeth, his fingers clutching the half-empty bottle at his side. Suddenly, the bottle was gone with a deafening shatter, shards of glass sprinkling the floor. _

_Kurt felt rough hands grab his dress shirt and back him up across the broken bottle, knowing some of that glass had punctured his pale feet. His head hit the beer-soaked wall, and the smell of alcohol was on Blaine's breath as he pressed their faces together. "What did you just say?"_

Kurt lurched awake, that pungent smell still imprinted in his mind. He hadn't even realized he had fallen asleep, but now he saw that the fabric boards and storage shelves of Mercedes' spare room were lit only by moonlight. She must've gone to bed hours ago.

The brunette rubbed his forehead, wondering if he'd ever get back to sleep. He had probably made a lot of noise when he woke up, because his friend was rubbing her eyes as she entered his new bedroom. "Kurt? Everything okay?"

Kurt wanted to lie, just like he had lied ever time someone asked how things had been going with Blaine, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He just shook his head, his lower lip quivering as fat tears rolled passed the bridge of his nose. "Oh, baby." Mercedes ran over and wrapped an arm around him, helping him up. "You're coming to bed with me, okay? You shouldn't be alone right now." He nodded and let the woman lead him away, wondering if he'd ever be able to be alone again.


	3. I'm Adjusting

**A/N- IMPORTANT NOTICE: meow. That is all.**

"It's good to see you again, Kurt." The woman reached across her desk, clearly labeled 'Candice Fall' by a shining name plate. She shook the young man's hand as he nodded and sat in the plush chair across from her.

"You too. I'm really, really sorry I haven't called in a while." He smiled sheepishly, twiddling his thumbs in his lap. Something was different about the once confident countertenor, who now seemed to be in a different world. Kurt avoided making eye contact, and his voice was quiet and reserved.

Candice smiled sympathetically at her client. "It's alright, you didn't miss much. I've got something for you though." She clicked her french-tipped nails against her keyboard, turning the computer screen so Kurt could see the advertisement she uploaded. "Auditions are this weekend, if you're interested."

Kurt glanced at the screen with apprehension. Some television show in Cleveland was looking for extras, and a few parts even had lines. "Do you... Do you think I'm right for the part?" Candice sighed heavily. The Kurt she knew would never ask that question. He would make the part right for _him_.

"You'll do great. This'll be a cake-walk for you, Kurt. And," she smiled, trying to get him excited, "This could be your big break."

He laughed halfheartedly. "You say that every time."

Candice gave him a look of sincerity. "I mean it every time." She smiled warmly and slipped out of her business mindset, worrying about the man. She really did consider Kurt a friend, even if their agent/client relationship came first. "How have things been going?"

Kurt shrugged, staring out the window. "I'm... adjusting. Mercedes has been great to let me stay with her, but my old house just won't sell. It's only been on the market for a few weeks, but I really just want it gone."

Candice pursed her lips, a face she made whenever something bothered her. "It'll all be over soon. Just focus on other things," she said, pointing at the computer screen, "Like your audition." She handed him a stapled pack of papers. "Here's the script, I've already highlighted the parts you're eligible for."

Kurt smiled. This could be a good kind of distraction. "Thanks, Candice. You always know how to cheer me up." She smiled and blushed, waving away the compliment. "I gotta go, I have a meeting with my real estate agent."

"Alright, if you have to." She smirked and leaned across the desk to give Kurt a quick hug. "Bye Kurt."

"Bye Candice." Kurt got up and left the office, heading out to his car. He was off to another appointment, where a crotchety old (and clearly homophobic) woman would tell him once again that now is a bad time to be selling a house, or that no one would want to buy. Kurt sighed. At least this time he had something to look forward to afterward.

* * *

"Hey baby. How did your meetings go?" Mercedes was sitting on the couch, hunched over her sewing machine. She had to talk over the noises it made, but it was almost comforting to Kurt. A loud house was better than the silent one he had been living in a month before.

"Candice and I had a nice chat. She found me some work too, I have an audition on Saturday."

"That's great!" She turned off the machine and smiled up at her friend, who was busying himself by making coffee. "What did Mrs. Haybecker have to say?"

Kurt sighed, closing the top of the coffee maker with an unnecessary amount of effort. "Nothing good, of course." He walked into the living room and dropped onto the couch. "That woman is truly vile. She keeps glaring at me!" Kurt ran his hands through his hair, gripping the strands with aggravation. "You'd think she'd be nicer, considering how much I pay her."

Mercedes put a hand on his knee, rubbing sympathetically. "You could fire her and find someone else. Some people don't even use a realtor when they sell."

"No, she's the best in the business. If she can't sell that place, I don't know who can. And I can't do it by myself," Kurt said, sounding exhausted. "I've got enough on my plate, I don't need to add running open houses or talking about prices for hours on end."

Mercedes nodded with understanding, willing to listen to anything Kurt would want to get off his chest. But he just sighed again and stood, walking back to the kitchen. He grabbed the coffee pot and poured a steaming cup of the black liquid, letting the coffee maker drip on the hot plate with a sizzle. He stirred in the cream and sugar hastily. "Are you in a rush for something?" She meant it as a joke, but Kurt didn't seem to pick up on jokes anymore.

"Just really wanna go over this script. Gonna get it perfect."

"Don't get too involved in your work." Mercedes looked at him nervously. "I know you. You're gonna become an even bigger perfectionist than usual, then work will be the only thing you focus on. You can't live like that Kurt, don't shut people out. Especially not me."

Kurt stopped stirring. He looked over his shoulder and saw how worried Mercedes looked. "Mercedes, I'm not going to shut you out. I just need a distraction right now, okay? Please understand that." She still gave him that sad, puppy dog look, and he couldn't help but walk over and give her a hug. "What's wrong?"

"You need to tell me what's going on with you, Kurt. You aren't the same, everyone can tell." He gave her a downtrodden look, only making her more worried. "Just promise me if you want to talk, you'll tell me. I don't need you hiding in your room with a script just because you're scared."

"I promise." Kurt smiled shakily, giving her another hug before grabbing his coffee and script. "I'll just be in the other room, I don't want to bother you." He walked off and shut the door behind him, feeling Cedes' eyes follow him the whole way.

* * *

"Umm... Blaine? What're you doing?" Spencer watched Blaine walk into their apartment, six-pack in each hand. "We already have beer in the fridge."

He gave her a confused glare. "We were... running low."

"You said that two days ago. How the hell could we be 'running low' again?" He opened his mouth to answer, but she got off the couch and walked to the refrigerator, ignoring him completely. "Oh my god, Blaine!" Of the case of drinks she had bought only a few days before, one sat lonely in the back of the cold fridge. "How much have you been drinking lately?"

"The same as usual. I just haven't really had time to restock lately." He started plucking the cans from the plastic. Spencer's jaw dropped slightly.

"You drink like this _all the time_? How have I not noticed?" He shrugged, mumbling something. "What?"

"I go out for more most days, and I'm used to taking care of the containers quickly." Blaine thought back to the time when Kurt would passive aggressively mention how he missed having clean counters, or put the recycling bucket next to the door. "I just didn't have time the other day, you know, so I guess this is the first time we've actually run out."

She looked at Blaine like she had never seen him before. "And you've been doing this all month?" He nodded, and Spencer couldn't help but sputter. "Wha- How- Where are you getting the money for all this?"

Blaine glared at her again. "I had it when I came here."

"Blaine, you had two month's rent when you came here. We _just _payed the bills, and the next set aren't that far away!" Spencer was becoming frantic, moving her hands more and more as she spoke. "You do realize you have NO JOB right? That money is gonna run out, and when it does- I don't know what's gonna happen when it does, but it'll be bad!"

"What's your point, Spencer?" He was keeping calm, too calm for a situation like this. Blaine popped the top of a beer and took a long drink, then wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

"My _point _is that you can't keep doing this! For one, I know that you're drinking way more than you should be. I have a drink once in a while, so clearly you're the one knocking back ever beer in sight. And second, I need help, Blaine!" She grabbed him by the shoulders so they had no choice but to face eachother. "I'm a _waitress_, Blaine. Last time I checked, I don't make a lot of money! And having a roommate who would rather buy booze than pay the rent doesn't help me at all!"

"Is that what I'm here for? Just to help you pay your damn bills?" Spencer's nose twitched as he leaned in and spoke the words, alcohol staining his breath. Sure, she wasn't home a lot, but how could she have not noticed this before?

"Yes Blaine, that is what I put the ad out for. I needed help paying my damn bills!" She let him go and took a step back, eager to escape the drunken cloud around him. "But is that even a bad thing? I let you into my apartment! You got a place to stay, and I didn't get evicted. It's a win _fucking _win here, buddy!" Spencer looked ready to throw something. So did Blaine, who was leaving dents in his beer can. "But it won't be as soon as you run out of cash!"

"So you're telling me to get a job?"

"YES! GO GET A GOD DAMN JOB!"

Blaine just shook his head. Spencer had the feeling those words had been uttered to him before. "You sound just like Kurt," he muttered.

Spencer's eyes grew wider, and it seemed like her mouth had the inability to close. "Who the hell is Kurt?" The question made Blaine go red with anger and embarrassment, but Spencer was glad. Let him get angry. "Or is he one of those personal problems from little old Ohio that I'm not allowed to hear about?"

Blaine was breathing shakily through his nostrils. "Something like that."

"Yeah? Well maybe this Kurt had the right idea. I'm sorry Blaine, but you need to get your ass in gear. Find a job or something! Or else... or else you can't stay here anymore."

Blaine took a sharp breath. His hands were clenched into fists as he snarled, "You wouldn't dare. You said it yourself, I'm here to help pay the bills. Who else is gonna do that, huh?"

The thought of what might happen, if she couldn't find help quickly enough, made tears well up in Spencer's eyes. One fell, too quick for her to stop. "I'll find somebody. You won't be able to pay the bills soon anyway. And anyone would be better than a freeloading asshole who sits around and gets drunk." Blaine's face was scarlet now. He looked ready to scream, but instead took another beer from the refrigerator and marched to the door. He slammed it without turning back. Spencer wondered if she would ever really find out about the past of Blaine Anderson.


	4. People Who Need People

**A/N- Ummm... A month? Have I really ignored this thing for a _month? _****God I'm dumb. Here's a rather long chapter, for anyone who is still willing to put up with my stupidity.**

Kurt fell back on the bed of his seedy motel room. He had been in Cleveland for five days now. If they were going to give him a callback, they would've done it by now. Kurt sighed and pulled two slips of paper from his pocket, along with his cell phone. He needed some help.

His fingers dialed Mercedes' number without him even thinking about it, like they had done so many times before. Kurt held the phone to his ear and waited, but not for long. "Kurt!" Mercedes tried to sound excited, but it came out anxious. "Did you get a part?"

"I don't think so." He heard Mercedes take a sharp breath and start talking again, but he cut her off. "That's not actually what I called about, Cedes."

"Oh. Well what do you need? Is everything alright?"

"I'm fine," he replied, forever grateful of how much she cared. "I just have a question." Kurt looked down at the two papers. One was a business card with the name of a casting director on it. The other, a strip of a napkin with a phone number scribbled on it in poor handwriting. "I have in my hand two numbers. One could get me a date with a cute guy, the other could get me a job. Which do I call first?"

Mercedes wanted to squeal in excitement, but kept calm for Kurt's sake. "You know what I"m gonna say."

"Right. Call the casting director first."

"NO!" Cedes' angry voice rang out, making Kurt pull the phone away from his ear quickly. "Kurt Hummel, you call that guy right now, before I drive to Cleveland and smack the blush off your white boy cheeks!" He voice softened, anger subsiding. "You're too focused on work, baby. Go have some fun for once."

Kurt sighed. To be honest, he was considering ignoring that number all together. But id Mercedes insisted... "Alright, I'll call him. Thanks hon."

"No problem. You coming home soon?"

Kurt's mind immediately jumped to his little house, but he quickly pushed the image away. That wasn't home anymore. "Yeah, I'll head back tomorrow."

He just knew his friend was smiling. "Good, I missed you. I gotta go, this design needs to be done tonight or I'm screwed. Bye, Kurt."

"Bye, Cedes." Kurt pressed end, then looked down at the napkin. _Let's get this over with._

He cringed with every button his fingers pressed, but soon it was time to hit send. The phone rang quietly and Kurt was about to hang up after the third ring, when a smooth voice answered. "Hello?"

"Patrick? This is Kurt. Kurt Hummel?" He started brushing his fingers through his hair nervously.

"Oh, yeah, the guy from the audition! I'm glad you called, I was getting worried."

Kurt gave a shaky laugh. "Sorry about that. Ummm... Okay, I've only ever been with one guy so I don't really know how to do this," _Shit_. He hit himself in the forehead. _I haven't even gone on a date with him and I'm already spilling the beans._ "So, uhh, do you wanna grab a coffee or something? With me?"

"Sounds great!" Patrick seemed way more enthusiastic than Kurt felt. "How's tomorrow morning sound? I've got a couple hours free."

"Oh, yeah that's fine. Is 9 good? I've actually gotta drive pretty far tomorrow."

"Yeah, that'll work. I know a great café that makes a mean muffin, we can have breakfast together."

"Great." Kurt smiled faintly. He hadn't expected this to go so smoothly. "I have to make another phone call. Could you text me the address and I'll just meet you there?"

"Sure, can't wait. I'll see you tomorrow then. Bye, Kurt."

"Bye, Patrick." He ended the call, and a text message popped up on the screen not long after. He jotted the address down on the back of his hand and moved on to the business card.

One ring. Two. The last call had given Kurt a new confidence. He would wait through a hundred rings if that's what it came to.

Luckily, he didn't have to wait through more than three. An airy female voice answered the phone. "Bower Talent Agency, this is Katie speaking. How may I help you?"

"Hi, Katie. This is Kurt Hummel, I was told I should speak with Mr. Richards." He was clutching the phone so hard that it hurt, worried that he had been tricked.

"Oh yes, he's been expecting your call. I'm afraid he isn't here at the moment, but he did tell me that he would like to see you tomorrow. He's free at 10 tomorrow, if you can come in."

"Yeah, of course!" The brunette wanted to jump up and down, scream at the top of his lungs. "I'll be sure to make it there on time. So just go to the address on the card?"

"Correct. He asks that you come with a resumé and song prepared, Mr. Richards is very interested in your abilities."

"And I'm interested in showing him. Thank you, Katie." He said good bye and hung up, trying to take a deep breath. Maybe things were starting to look up.

* * *

Mercedes had been sewing for hours now, and finally her dress was finished. It was a silky wraparound built for plus sized women, a minor piece of the major collection she would someday have. Just as she was about to make herself a plate of celebratory tatter tots, her cell phone rang.

The screen glowed with the name Rachel Berry, and Mercedes let out a sigh. _What kind of _fabulous_story do I need to hear now? _She answered the phone, rudely replying, "This better be good Rachel. You're keeping me from a plate of little golden angels right now."

Rachel sputtered, clearly confused, but soon gained her usual composure. "I am about to tell you something, but you CAN NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE tell Kurt. Okay?"

"Alright, alright! What is it? You bought him a new Gucci and you want it to be a surprise?"

"No, far from that." She sounded worried, and Mercedes decided this might be the kind of conversation you wanna sit down for. "It's about Blaine."

"Oh, HELL to the no. Blaine is gone now Rachel, we are _never_ bringing up that sorry son of a bitch again. EVER." Mercedes was already more angry than she had been in the month Kurt was living here. Just hearing that _fucking name_-

"Cedes! This is important!" She stopped seething for a moment to listen to Rachel. "I found him."

* * *

It had been almost a week since Spencer had last talked to her mysterious roommate. Judging by the fluctuating amount of alcohol in his refrigerator and the slamming doors in the middle of the night, Blaine had been staying while she was at work or class, then leaving just before she came home. Spencer was fine with that. As long as the rent got payed, it didn't matter.

Still, she was a bit worried. Blaine was clearly unstable. Having someone like that in your life can take a toll on you, and you start to feel obligated to care for them. And they were becoming friends over this past month, before their fight. Spencer walked up to her apartment, back from a late shift at work. Maybe there was some way she could help him, like finding him a job or counseling or-

"Oof!" _Or picking his drunk ass up off the floor_. Blaine was laying in the kitchen with his head propped up against the door, and Spencer had hit him pretty bad when she opened it. She opened her mouth to yell at him, but then she saw his face. He looked... Spencer couldn't really describe how he looked. Almost like he just watched his best friend get hit by a car, or had to put his pet down or something. Like there was never going to be anything good about life ever again.

"Blaine?" Spencer knelt down beside him, holding his head up before it could droop back down again. "Blaine, what's wrong?" He looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot from- _Wait a minute. _There was no alcohol in sight. His gaze was sharp and sad, not that mildly depressed, glazed over look they usually had. Blaine didn't even smell like beer. _Has he been crying?_

"Seriously, Blaine, what's wrong?" He looked at her face, saw the worry it held, and soon he was sobbing in her arms.

It was an hour or so before Blaine could form coherent sentences. Spencer had sat him at the kitchen table, a coffee in one hand and his chin in the other. Blaine's face was splotchy and tear-stained, but at least he was ready to talk now.

"So... yeah. That's the story." He had told her everything, from failing at his music career to all the times he had hurt Kurt (or at least, the ones he could remember) right up until the time he left. Now he sat there looking forlorn. "And then I saw Rachel, and everything just started hurting again."

"Okay, you're gonna need to explain. Who's Rachel? What happened?" He took a deep breath, ready to start his next story.

_Blaine walked down a busy New York street not far from Times Square. He had only been to New York a few times, but this used to be one of his favorite spots. All these people rushing by would make him think that he was part of a whole, but maybe he could still stand out from the crowd. Now it left him feeling empty, like he was the guy in the crowd that no one noticed when he disappeared._

_Someone did notice him though. Blaine was hearing his name called over and over again, but he couldn't see anyone he knew. His paranoia grew, and soon he was running down the street, shoving people out of his way._

_Whoever was following him was faster though. Blaine was cut off by a tiny brunette with a huffy expression and an indescribably bad outfit. _

"_Blaine Anderson!" Rachel stomped her foot like a diva, her Mary Janes clicking on the sidewalk. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"_

_He gaped at the tiny girl, mentally cursing himself. How many times had Kurt mentioned that Rachel was studying at Julliard? He thought, out of the millions of people in New York City, he would never run into her. Clearly fate wasn't so kind._

"_Leave me alone, Rachel." He tried to go around her, but again she was too quick._

"_No! You don't know how badly I wanted to find you."_

"_Oh? And why is that?"_

_Rachel got on her tiptoes and, with a fiendish smile, slapped him across the face. "To do that! Blaine, how could you hurt Kurt like that!" She was glaring so hard Blaine was afraid her eyes would carve a hole through his head. "He loved you!"_

_He was rubbing his jaw, and said (regretfully) the only thing he knew would shock Berry enough for him to escape. "Yeah, well the feeling wasn't mutual." _

_She looked at him with hurt in her eyes, her mouth open but no words escaping. Blaine took the opportunity to run._

* * *

Kurt walked into the tiny café, letting the scent of pastries and fresh coffee grace his nostrils. He looked around shyly and saw his date, sitting in the far corner with two mugs in front of him. Kurt smiled and walked over to Patrick, who slid one of the mugs in his direction. "I had the feeling you aren't a decaf kind of guy."

Kurt laughed. "No sir. I like my coffee to have a purpose, and that purpose is to wake me up."

It was Patrick's turn to laugh. "So true! I hate decaf, the point of drinking coffee is to get buzzed." He took a sip of his drink, and Kurt noticed that Patrick drank his coffee black. It was one of those interesting little things that he liked to notice about people. "So, what would you like for breakfast? I can just go order for the two of us."

"Oh, umm... A double chocolate muffin sounds great." Patrick nodded and got in line, giving Kurt the opportunity to shamelessly look at him. He was tall and thin, with reddish brown hair cut in a sweeping look just below his ears. His blue eyes we're kinda cute, and his freckles gave him that boyish look Kurt found amusing. In all, he wasn't bad to look at. It just wasn't what Kurt was used to looking at...

Patrick came back to their table, and the two took half an hour just talking to eachother. It turned out they had a lot in common. Both were aspiring actors, and loved musicals. Patrick was a Patti LuPone fan, which made Kurt swoon a little. Kurt told him about him scarf fetish, which Patrick found insanely adorable, and then he told Kurt about his love of finding comfortable but sexy shoes. It turned out that Patrick knew a lot about cars too, which Kurt found surprising. It lead into a conversation about their childhoods, their families, their schools... And that's the part where Kurt couldn't talk anymore. He started to say something about Dalton Academy, but all of those memories were too closely related to _him_.

Kurt got frenzied, not knowing what else to say. He looked down at his watch and saw that it was 9:45. _Thank Gaga! _"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry Patrick, but I have to go... I have a meeting at 10 with a casting director, it's really important you know?"

"Yeah, of course." Patrick looked a little upset, but tried to smile as Kurt hurriedly grabbed his jacket and satchel. "Maybe we can do this again sometime?"

"Yeah, maybe. Bye, Patrick!" Kurt called over his shoulder and gave his date a wave, but never looked back to see if it was returned.

* * *

Blaine was rolled out of bed the next morning by a very determined blonde. "Spencer, what're you doing?" He rubbed his eyes, still achy from crying the night before.

"Helping you. I took the day off of work and I'm dedicating it to helping you straighten your life out." She took his hand and helped him out of bed, then started ripping the sheets away from the mattress. "We're gonna clean your room, get all this sad crap outta here, and you're gonna dump all of the alcohol in the fridge down the drain."

"What? But-"

"No buts. If you think that's being wasteful or something, then give it to the college kids down the hall. Lord knows they'll love you for it." She pulled a trash bag out of the pocket of her hoodie and started picking up stray cans. She threw in clothes that had irremovable stains, old food wrappers, and anything else she deemed unfit to be in a clean room.

"Fine." Blaine grabbed the booze and hesitantly opened the apartment door, making his trek down to 21A and leaving the lonely bottles and cans on someone's doorstep. He backed away slowly, his body willing him one way while his brain pulled the other. When he finally made it back to his apartment, Spencer was on the phone.

"Blaine! You said you're a musician right?"

He frowned. "Yeah, I sing and play guitar. Why?"

Spencer gave him a wide smile. "I wish you had told me that sooner. I have a buddy who has a band, they've been looking for a guitar player for a while now. They're alright I guess-" She was cut off by someone on the other end of the phone, who was yelling at her. "Alright, jeez! They're a really good band! And they want you to audition tomorrow morning at the club they play at. Ever heard of The Outer Edge?"

"No."

"Oh. That's okay, you'll know about it soon enough. You're meeting them there tomorrow at 6, a couple hours before the crowd starts to come through." She finished up her phone conversation and made a pot of coffee, forcing Blaine to stay in the kitchen for a chat. "So, next order of business. Kurt."

"I can't call him, Spence. He hates me."

"You don't know that for sure," she said, taking his hand. "Besides, I wasn't going to tell you to call him."

"Then what were you gonna say? Run back to Ohio and apologize to him?" He was getting more and more upset waiting to hear her idea.

"No. I think you should write him a letter. You don't have to send it, just write it." She got up and opened a kitchen drawer, pulling out a pen and an old sheet of paper. "Say what you wanna tell him, it'll make you feel better." Spencer squeezed his hand and left the kitchen, giving Blaine his privacy. He stared at the blank page for what felt like hours, knowing there was all too much to write on just one sheet of paper.

* * *

Kurt felt breathless, but he looked at the two men across the room from him and knew he should start singing soon. Talent scouts lost interest quite easily.

_People  
__People who need people  
__Are the luckiest people in the world,  
__We're children, needing other children  
__And yet letting our grown-up pride  
__Hide all the need inside,  
__Acting more like children  
__Than children.  
__Lovers are very special people,  
__They're the luckiest people  
__In the world._

_With one person, one very special person  
__A feeling deep in your soul  
__Says you were half,  
__Now you're whole.  
__No more hunger and thirst  
__But first be a person  
__Who needs people.  
__People who need people  
__Are the luckiest people  
__In the world!_

_With one person, one very special person  
__A feeling deep in your soul  
__Says you were half,  
__Now you're whole._

A tear started rolling down Kurt's cheek, and his voice cracked as he wiped it away. This was a terrible song choice, and thinking about _him_ this morning didn't help. "I'm sorry," he said, trying to quickly get back to the song. "I'm just-"

"It's alright, Kurt. Actually, I think we've seen everything we need to see." The two men stood and began collecting their papers.

"Wait! I'm sorry, I'm usually a lot better, I can sing something else for you if you-"

"It's alright, Kurt. We have a meeting to get to," the other man said. He straightened his suit nonchalantly as he walked to the door. "We'll call you."

Kurt stood alone in the room and soon an assistant shuffled him out. He left the building slowly, wishing there was something more that he could do.

_No more hunger and thirst  
__But first be a person  
__Who needs people.  
__People who need people  
__Are the luckiest people  
__In the world!_


	5. Perfect

**A/N- Once again, my apologies for the delay.**

_We'll call you_. What a crock of shit. Kurt had waited, hoping with all of his heart that they were really going to call, despite the fact that he broke into tears in the middle of his audition. He was just going to give up, there was no point anymore.

At least, that's what he thought. Kurt had tried to push the thought from his brain completely. He was distracting himself in whatever way he could, whether with more auditions that Candice set up or lounging around the apartment. Even now he was watching a movie with Mercedes to keep his mind off of it. Then the phone rang. So much for pushing the thought away.

"Kurt Hummel?" That was the immediate response when Kurt answered his cell phone. It wasn't every day someone called, questioning your name.

"Yes, that's me. May I ask who's calling?"

"This is Blake Richards, Mr. Hummel. You auditioned for some of my talent agents no long ago."

_Too long ago, thank you very much_. "Yes, I remember."

"We'd like you to come in for another. We provide talent to local theaters, and we think you'd be perfect for the role of-" Kurt suddenly stopped listening. Perfect? Him?

"That sounds great, I'll set up an appointment with your receptionist. Thank you very much, Mr. Richards." They said their good byes and Kurt hung up the phone, dumbfounded.

"What was that all about?" Mercedes asked, looking up from her sketchpad. Kurt just stared at the flowing beige dress she was designing, thinking if he focused on one thing for long enough he might come back to reality.

"They said I'm perfect for the role," Kurt said airily.

Mercedes laughed and clapped him on the back. "Kurt, that's fantastic! What role?"

"I have no idea."

* * *

"Come on, Blaine." Spencer was dragging him down the street toward a dark building. There was no sign indicating what was inside, but Blaine already knew. It was time for his audition at The Outer Edge. "We're gonna be late if you don't hurry your ass up."

"I'm going, alright? Jesus." Blaine had been lagging behind for their entire walk. He knew it would look bad if he was late, but deep down a part of him was hoping they would be so mad that they would reject him immediately. He had been shot down for his talent so many times before, he'd rather be shot down for something stupid like being late.

The two finally made it to the club, entering its dimly lit depths. A group sat at one of the booths along the wall. There were two girls and a boy, who had his dirty boots propped up on the table and a scotch in his hand. "Finally," one of the women, a redhead, said. "Where'd you find this guy, Spence?"

"I don't know, it's not like I live with him or anything." Spencer rolled her eyes as she let the sarcasm drip from her words. "So, what do you think?"

All three stood and began circling him. The redhead was short and thin, but her giant pincurls made her look ten-times larger. The other girl was taller, and had bleached hair with purple tips. The man was holding his drumsticks protectively against his Pink Floyd tee as he looked Blaine over, scratching at his sandy blonde hair ever so often.

"So, Blaine is it?" Blaine gulped and nodded. He really shouldn't be this nervous. "What can you do?"

"I play guitar, bass, keyboard, drums, mandolin-"

"We don't have any room for a mandolin player. Just a guitarist," the tall woman said. She was wearing one of those name tags that says, Hi, my name is... She had filled it in as May Day.

"That's fine with me, ummm... is May Day your real name?"

Spencer laughed. "No, Blaine. This is Mary Lombardi, a woman who can't find a good stage name to save her life." May stuck her middle finger out at Spencer, who shook it off without a moment's notice. "This is Phoenix Parker-"

"My _real_ name, too." Phoenix stepped uncomfortably close to Blaine, and he could smell massive amount of perfume on the tiny woman. "Exotic, isn't it?"

"Yeah, exotic is a good word," Spencer snickered. "It relates to exotic dancer really well." Phoenix looked ready to slap her friend, who merely shrugged and moved on. "This guy over here is Joe Mattix. My personal good friend and... What are you, like the manager or something?"

Joe hit Spencer lightly over the head with a stick. "Manager _and _drummer. How do you always forget that?"

"My memory isn't the greatest, you of all people should know that." Spencer took a step back. "Go ahead and look at him, guys. I think Blaine has some real potential."

"Well what else can Mr. Potential do?" Joe asked, staring into Blaine's eyes with his piercing blue ones.

"I can sing. And I write my own music." Blaine shifted from foot to foot, feeling uncomfortable with all these eyes on him.

"Oh ho! Our own little Beethoven!" Phoenix stood on her tiptoes (which is really saying something, considering Blaine isn't that tall) and ruffled his dark curls. "Can you sing something you wrote?"

"Yeah, I guess." Blaine climbed on the small stage towards the back of the club, grabbing the band's guitar on the way. He cleared his throat and sat on the wooden stool, waiting for the others to follow him. They all stood and watched with hope and curiosity.

_I hate where I'm at  
__Acting crazy like that  
__I know that I've been wrong  
__It's something I've been working on  
__And I don't know what to do  
__It's changing me it's killing you  
__I'd tear out my insides if I could  
__But I don't know if it'd do me good_

_I'm sorry friends I'm sorry lovers  
__To put us all in this mess  
__I know we still got each other  
__But I'm in distress  
__Cause every time that I feel like I've figured it out  
__I can't seem to figure it in  
__It's got nothing to do with me  
__It's not even you, you see  
__It's part of my chemistry  
__It's this jealousy_

_In absolutely no position  
__To be so needlessly unkind  
__When I'm the one writing this fiction  
__Make it real in my mind  
__It drives me crazy in the morning  
__Who is this monster in the mirror  
__I try to get the steam to fog it out  
__But I just can't get it clear  
__Oh and I can't stand what I'm feeling  
__It's just like poison in my veins  
__I know that I'm speaking  
__But I don't know what I'm saying  
__Cause every time that I feel like the world just got lighter  
__It seems like my muscles give out  
__It's got nothing to do with me  
__It's not even you, you see  
__It's part of my chemistry  
__It's this jealousy_

_And I'm hearing your voice  
__That you know it's your choice  
__Maybe so  
__And I know it's no use  
__But it's the only excuse  
__That I know, no no_

_Let me go  
__Let me go  
__Oh let me go  
__Oh let me go_

_Now let's be real I feel just like a child  
__Someone could be taking all my toys  
__So call me dumb, call me wild  
__See that's the thing with little boys  
__Oh now I can't get it out in the shower  
__Or drink it off at the bar  
__This sugar's gone sour  
__And it's gone way too far  
__Cause every time that I feel like I'm riding so high,  
__Feel on top of the world  
__The bitch just keeps telling me no  
__It's got nothing to do with me  
__It's not even you, you see  
__It's part of my chemistry  
__This demon is killing me  
__And oh Christ it's filling me  
__It's this jealousy_

_Oh, and I just can't believe  
__In this jealousy,  
__This jealousy for you  
__Oh this jealousy,  
__This jealousy for you_

Blaine finished with one final cord on the guitar, then let out a sigh of relief. The people below just looked at eachother, then slowly began clapping. "Holy shit, dude!" Joe hopped on stage and grabbed Blaine by the shoulders. "You seriously wrote that?" Blaine nodded, and Joe just laughed like he was on heavy drugs. "Guys, he's perfect!"

Blaine had to catch his breath. Perfect? Him? It didn't seem possible, but soon everyone was agreeing. "Blaine, that's a really amazing song. And you've got real talent, I can tell," Phoenix climbed on stage after grabbing her bass guitar, and May followed suit as she walked to her keyboard. "Do you think we could kick it up a notch though? Make it more rock than acoustic?" Phoenix strummed her instrument as she said it, trying to think of how to improve the song for their next gig.

"I guess. Just pick up the tempo, add a beat and some strong bass to it." The two band members nodded, and May looked up from her keyboard.

"If you guys just start playing, I can think of something to do." She looked down again and started playing random cords while tapping her foot rapidly.

"So... is he in?" Spencer asked, approaching the front of the stage.

"Of course he is, Spencer. Pay attention."

* * *

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but what is it that I'm auditioning for?" Kurt curled and uncurled his fingers nervously.

"A local theater is putting on a production of Chicago. We still need-"

"Billy? Are you casting me to play Billy?" Kurt was rocking on the balls of his feet in anticipation.

"No. We need a man with a wide range to play Mary Sunshine. The director wants it to be authentic, so he asked that we found a countertenor. Like you," Mr. Richards said, pointing to Kurt.

"So you want me to dress in drag and sing soprano, only to be revealed as a man later?"

"Look kid, that's showbiz. Sometimes you do stupid shit you might not want to do, but you gotta do it to get ahead." Kurt admired the fact that the agent spoke honestly. That quality was hard to come by in show business. "It's a low paying job that takes an extreme amount of effort and time. And it could make you a star. Are you willing to take that risk, Mr. Hummel?"

Kurt gulped, but nodded. "Yes."

"Fabulous. Why don't you sing something for us then, as soon as Mr. Clark returns from the restroom."

They waited in silence for the director to return. Soon they saw his massive stomach coming down the hall, and he squeezed himself into a chair. "Alright, I'm ready, kid."

Kurt nodded. He hummed the first note to get the feel of the piece, then started to sing something to show off his true talents.

_Something has changed within me..._

* * *

"That was so good, guys!" Spencer sat at the bar, sipping a White Russian. "By far your best show."

"Agreed," Scott said. He was a cute bartender with dark brown hair and green eyes, which kept darting back to Spencer every chance they got. "Lemme grab you guys a couple beers, let's celebrate."

Spencer looked back at Blaine with wide eyes. She shook her head, and he thought there were tears brimming along them. "None for me, thanks." Blaine stepped away from the counter and tried keeping his eyes off the drinks. He was really gonna try.

* * *

When Blaine finally got home, he was still on a high from his performance. The crowds had loved the band, which Blaine soon found out was named The Zip-It Kids. It was a pretty dumb name for a band, but maybe he could help them come up with something new later. What was important now was that he was actually _in a band_.

He sat at the kitchen table, considering having something to eat when a slip of white caught his eye. The blank paper was still there, untouched by the blue pen next to it. Blaine slid both over, thinking hard. He might be able to write this now.

_Dear Kurt,_

_It's Blaine. Hey. Christ, this already sounds terrible. I miss you. A lot. I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am, every waking minute of every day. I walked out on you. We could've fixed this together, but I gave up. And you know that's not all I'm sorry for. You don't ever need to forgive me, because I'll never forgive myself._

_I'm sober now though. I mean, only for a few days, but that's a start right? I've been hoping to get over this, and I think it's possible now. There's so much more I need to say, so much that I'll probably never say it all, but I'm running out of space. I'll have Spencer (my roommate, who's a girl) buy more stationary next time she goes to work._

_Best wishes,  
__Blaine_

He looked it over, fingering all the places where he scratched out words. He was going to write 'love' instead of 'best wishes,' but the latter seemed more appropriate. Giving Kurt his love would be far from the best thing that man needs.


	6. Feeling the Joy

**A/N- Ugh. Why am I so lazy? Sorry. Here's an update. Enjoy!**

**And on a side note, I looked back at the old chapters and realized the time frames must seem a little strange, the way I intermingle Blaine and Kurt's separate scenes. Just know that they're on a similar time frame, maybe all in the same week, but some of this stuff is happening on different days (like Blaine's audition for the band happening very quickly while Kurt had to wait a week for a callback). I thought that might be helpful to mention.**

**And on another note! If you put the flashback from Chapter 2 with the one in here, that is the full story of what happened the night Blaine left.**

"I can't believe you got the part!"

Kurt glared at Mercedes with mock anger. "You have so little faith in me," he said, trying to contain the giddiness he hadn't felt in ages.

"It's not that I didn't have faith," Mercedes replied with equal excitement. "It's just that this role is so perfect! I never expected something like this to go so well for you, you know?"

Kurt laughed. It was meant to be harsh, but his usually spiteful attitude refused to surface today. "Trust me, I know exactly what you mean." He dug his spoon into the bowl of celebratory ice cream Cedes had bought him. Did it make sense that food was tasting better now? Because this vanilla ice cream was like a dream come true. "We should go out clubbing or something to celebrate."

Mercedes' face lit up. "Yes! Let's go to the karaoke bar, I love that place."

"Sure," Kurt said with a laugh. He was open to anything; the world was his oyster.

* * *

"Okay, now that your career is on track..." Mercedes took a sip of her mojito and stared at Kurt with knowing eyes.

"What?"

"We need to get you laid."

"Mercedes!" Kurt stared at his friend in shock. "My love life is none of your business!"

"It is now." She polished off her drink and considered going back to the bar for another overpriced concoction. "The only guy you've ever been with is Blaine, Kurt. You've never had a healthy relationship." Kurt looked sad, but she knew that was all part of the healing process. "What you need is a sweet, loving guy who's actually worth your time."

Kurt looked around with a worried glance, giving ever guy in the bar a once-over. "I don't know, sweetie. Guys like that are hard to come by."

"Not when you're Kurt Hummel," she said warmly, pushing his bangs out of his face. "You're beautiful, smart, funny, talented... There are so many great words to describe you, but I don't have the time to list them all." Kurt smiled sadly and stirred his Long Island iced tea as a distraction. "We need to get you noticed."

"Oh? And how do you suppose we do that?" Kurt asked with a raised eyebrow.

Mercedes stood up and grabbed Kurt by the hand, pulling him over to the small wooden stage in the corner. "We're at a karaoke bar, Kurt. Sing some karaoke."

The bartender saw that someone was finally climbing onstage. With a smile, he flicked a light switch under the counter and a spotlight flashed to the microphone. Mercedes pushed Kurt up to it and ran back to her seat with a thumbs up. Kurt approached the microphone slowly. He heard familiar music play softly at first, progressively getting louder. He recognized the piece, but knew as soon as he heard it that this was a bad song to sing. But he couldn't disappoint the crowd of people staring at him curiously, waiting for something to happen. The opening bars were fast approaching, and Kurt made the snap decision to sing for all he was worth.

_Guess mine is not the first heart broken,  
__My eyes are not the first to cry  
__I'm not the first to know,  
__There's just no gettin' over you_

_Hello, I'm just a fool who's willing  
__To sit around and wait for you  
__But baby can't you see,  
__There's nothin' else for me to do  
__I'm hopelessly devoted to you _

_But now there's nowhere to hide,  
__Since you pushed my love aside  
__I'm not in my head,  
__Hopelessly devoted to you  
__Hopelessly devoted to you,  
__Hopelessly devoted to you_

_My head is saying, "Fool, forget him",  
__My heart is saying, "Don't let go"  
__Hold on to the end, that's what I intend to do  
__I'm hopelessly devoted to you _

_But now there's nowhere to hide,  
__since you pushed my love aside  
__I'm not in my head,  
__Hopelessly devoted to you  
__Hopelessly devoted to you  
__Hopelessly devoted to you_

A single tear trailed down Kurt's cheek as everyone clapped for him. He smiled and waved before running back to Mercedes.

The woman looked scared out of her mind. "Oh god, Kurt, please don't hate me! I had no idea they were picking that song, I just told the bartender to put on something high pitched for you! I'm so sorry, really I-"

"Cedes!" He shouted, effectively cutting her off. "It's fine. I'm fine."

Kurt heard a whistle from behind him, accompanied by a small chuckle. "Damn, you are fine," said a strangely familiar voice. Kurt furrowed his brow and turned to greet his admirer.

"Oh. My. Gaga." Kurt's jaw dropped at the sight of a tall man with dark blonde hair and big green eyes. Kurt wouldn't have recognized him if it weren't for those absurdly large lips. "Sam?"

* * *

"Okay guys," Joe began, looking each band member in the eyes before continuing, "We need something new, something big!"

"Like what?" May asked, twirling one of her clunky neon bracelets.

"Something to get us noticed." Joe paced the floor, thinking hard. "I've called a bunch of talent agencies, and they're sending representatives to watch us perform next week. We need something original, or no one will want to sign us." Joe sighed and sat down on the edge of the stage. "We can't stay in this club forever, you know."

"What's wrong with staying here forever?" Scott called across the dance floor. He was sweeping up, trying to get ready for the next rush of people. "You guys do a great job here!"

Phoenix rolled her eyes, but Scott was too far away to notice. "But what if we could be great somewhere else? Like on the road?" May nodded in agreement, and the two women began whispering about what it would be like to ride on a tour bus. Blaine watched their exchange with little interest. His mind was preoccupied with more important things.

"Well if you guys leave, I wouldn't get to see the five of you anymore."

That pulled Blaine back to the present. "Scott, there are only four of us..."

"Oh." Scott's cheeks went red and he turned away. "I must've miscounted."

Blaine shook his head. He had the feeling he knew exactly who the fifth person was, but he didn't want to say anything. Not now at least. "Well anyway, think that first thing to do is come up with a different name."

"What?" Joe turned to him and glared. "The Zip-It Kids is a great name, I came up with it myself!"

"Well... Blaine's right, Joey." Phoenix tried to let her friend down easy. "It's a shitty name."

Joe gave the band members a look of indignation. "I'd like to see you guys come up with something better!"

May stared hard at the floor for a moment. "How about... The Strokes!"

"May, sweetie, there's already a band with that name. A rather famous one, actually."

"Oh... right." May went back to staring at the floor, and Phoenix gave her thigh a sympathetic pat.

"How about the Pips?" Blaine suggested.

"No, too British. We need something edgy. Your band name should express who you are, what you sing, what you stand for!" Joe was getting worked up about it, and the others were surprised he didn't start hyperventilating or something. Then Blaine got an idea.

"What about... Starkids?" Everyone looked at one another, letting the title sink in. Even Scott stopped his cleaning to think it over. Eventually, Joe looked back at the guitarist.

"It's... Perfect." Everyone else nodded, smiles slowly spreading across their faces. "Okay, so we're the Starkids. We've got an awesome name, but we need an awesome song to go with it. Jealousy is good, but I think we can top it."

Blaine's smile became a grin. "I think I've got that covered too."

* * *

"I'll be at home, waiting to hear every last detail. Okay?" Kurt nodded and hugged Mercedes before she climbed into her car and drove off. He turned back to Sam, who was giving him a wide smile.

"Wanna go for a walk?" He extended him hand, which Kurt took without hesitation. It was amazing how comfortable he felt. Maybe this is what he needed before he could start dating again. He needed to feel safe.

The two walked, making idle conversation. They kept going, past the plethora of shops and restaurants until they reached the edge of their small town. There was a nice park out this way, and Kurt was happy to visit it with such a handsome man. It wasn't long before Sam became curious though.

"So... you and Blaine? That didn't work out?"

Kurt gripped Sam's hand tighter and he watched his feet as he spoke. "It was a recent separation."

"Oh, god. Sorry. There I go, putting my foot in my big mouth."

Kurt laughed. "It's funny, your mouth seems to be the only thing that stayed the same. What happened to the lemon juice hair I recall so fondly?"

Sam shrugged. "I figured it was time to start being myself again."

Kurt smiled warmly. "Well I like it. A lot." They kept walking in silence, but silence wasn't something Kurt enjoyed. He felt his ears ring as they tried to fight it, and he blurted out the only thing he could think to say. "Blaine left me. We had been fighting, he was drinking a lot..."

Sam stopped walking abruptly and turned the shorter man by the shoulders. "Did he hurt you?" Kurt frowned and nodded slowly as Sam pulled him into a tight embrace. "Oh Kurt, I'm so sorry."

"Hey, it's not your fault." Kurt shrugged and moved away, but Sam took his hand again.

"I kinda feel like it is, though. I mean," he sighed, trying to find the right words. "I kinda harbored a crush on you. Maybe if I had done something when I had the chance, you would've never been with him."

It was Kurt's turn to stop walking. "You- you had a crush on me?"

Sam nodded. "I've known I was gay for a while now. I was just afraid of what people would think, you know? So I went after Quinn, when really I should've been going after you. I could have saved you a lot of heartbreak."

Kurt's mouth was hanging open in shock and excitement. "I- I guess so." He looked up, only to find that Sam had moved in close to him. Their chests were almost touching, and Kurt reached up with his free hand to run his fingers across the zipper of Sam's jacket. The taller man brushed Kurt's bangs across his face before leaning in to press a feather-light kiss to his lips.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that."

* * *

"Okay Blaine, just remember," Spencer said, patting him on the back, "This gig could make or break your current career. So don't blow it."

"You're so helpful, thank you."

Spencer smiled and gave him a small push towards the stage. "Go get 'em, tiger."

The Starkids climbed onstage as Scott introduced them. Joe tapped out a quick beat on his drums, and Blaine closed his eyes._ You've got this, Blaine..._

_Remember that time,  
__When you wouldn't talk to me,  
__No, you wouldn't talk to me, all night. _

_Remember that song,  
__And all the words we'd sing.  
__Well here's a song I'd sing, all right. _

_Remember that way,  
__'Cause you'd never lie to me,  
__'Cause you'd never lie to me, no way. _

_You could be faking it.  
__My god, don't be like that,  
__I don't like the way you act around me_

_So baby, come on, come on. _

_Oh, don't you tell me no, there you go again  
__You're ten out of ten,  
__Sorry, did I just s-stutter?  
__Won't tell you what you know, there you go again,  
__You were never my friend,  
__You were never my, you were never my lover. _

_Remember that night,  
__When I saw you standing there,  
__Dark eyes, dark hair, it's just you. _

_Remember the way,  
__That you were way out of line,  
__I was way out of time, for you. _

_And I got your number, right next to your name.  
__But it ain't nothing, no, it ain't enough.  
__That I got your word, I know, that it's all okay.  
__Trying to forget, your kind of oh... _

_So baby, come on, come on. _

_Oh don't you tell me no, there you go again  
__You're ten out of ten,  
__Sorry, did I just s-stutter?  
__Won't tell you what you know, there you go again,  
__You were never my friend,  
__You were never my, you were never my lover_

_I know you could be better,  
__You don't have to waste my time,  
__It's not like I need you more than I need me, _

_And I, I know that you want it  
__Trying to get you on it,  
__Baby we could fuck the rights, turn around and wrong them. _

_So tell me what your convictions, the promises you keep,  
__I've got a proposition, and friction that you need.  
__Don't you tell me that, you don't want to.  
__Don't you tell me that, you don't want to. _

_So baby, come on, come on. _

_Oh don't you tell me no, there you go again  
__You're ten out of ten,  
__Sorry did I just s-stutter?  
__Won't tell you what you know, this is the end.  
__You were never my friend,  
__You were never my, you were never my lover_

He was hit with an uproar of cheers. Blaine's eyes lit up at the admiration that radiated around him, feeling high on pure life. This was.. wow. He turned to face the others, and the expressions on Joe, Phoenix, and May's faces only made him feel better.

"Blaine! That was great!" He was pulled into Spencer's arms as soon as he got off the stage. She hugged him and them moved on to her other friends, giving them each a tight embrace. "You guys will get signed for sure, I can feel it."

"Thanks, Spence." They kept talking animatedly, until a man in a suit approached Joe and muttered something in his ear.

Spencer's eyes went wide. "I'll talk to you later, you? Good job, Blaine." She squeezed his shoulder and walked off into the crowd, back to the dance floor.

"Blaine, come on. This guy wants to buy us drinks." He was handed a beer, ice cold and heavy in his hands. Blaine sputtered, but took a tentative sip. He's not drinking it to feel better, he already feels amazing! It's just because it was offered to him by this guy, this guy who could be his ticket to the big time!

Right?

* * *

It was the middle of the night when Kurt woke up. Even in the dark, he could tell he was in a strange place, somewhere he didn't recognize. He ran his hands across the green cotton sheets around him, and felt a grip over his waist tighten. "Kurt? You up?"

He rolled over to face Sam, who stared at him with a pensive look. "Yeah, I'm up."

Sam scooted closer to him, and Kurt tried to absorb the other man's warmth. "You were kinda... shaking. In your sleep. Are you okay?"

Kurt sighed. He was going to have to tell someone at some point.

"_What did you just say?"_

"_You heard me," Kurt said, his voice quivering. "You're just- you're just jealous!"_

_The shadow Blaine's body cast over Kurt moved suddenly, and was replaced by a sharp impact to his face. Kurt collapsed to the floor, his hand flying to his eye. He could already feel it swelling and throbbing. "You wanna say that again?"_

_Kurt let out a choked sob. "N-no."_

_Blaine grabbed him by the back of the hair and yanked upward. "Good." He let Kurt's head drop to the floor, and a shard of glass scratched his cheek. Blaine stomped off and slammed the bedroom door. He could hear the man opening and closing drawers rapidly, throwing things around. He moved to the next room and grabbed more of his stuff, slamming that door behind him. Kurt wearily picked himself up off the floor and went to the bedroom quietly. He shoved an empty drawer off the bed and snuggled under the covers, closing himself off to the rest of the world._

"So... That's what happened. He was gone when I left."

"Kurt..." He could hear the tears in Sam's voice. Kurt rolled over and kissed them away. "I'm so sorry."

Kurt remained silent for a while. "He's the only guy I've ever been with. Until you."

"Is that... good?"

Kurt snuggled closer. "It's an amazing thing. You make me feel good and safe, and I'm glad it was with someone I know, not some stranger."

"Good, I'm glad." Sam smiled sadly and leaned in to give him a soft kiss, but Kurt put more pressure into it than he was expecting. Sam pulled him closer and rocked his hips forward, pulling a deep moan from somewhere in the smaller man. He moved so that his body hovered over Kurt's as those large, unbelievably talented lips kissed down his neck.

"Sam, _please_, I-" Sam brought his lips back to Kurt's and pressed firmly, running his tongue past Kurt's.

"What do you want?" He asked quietly, planting kisses and bites down Kurt's chest.

_To be happy. I just want to be happy. _"You."

* * *

_Dear Kurt,_

_Spencer got me more paper. So... yeah. More letters to you, I guess. I'm still sorry. And I'm sorry I drank tonight, I hope you're not mad about that. I'm just trying to get in with these agent people, I figured drinking would make it a little easier to talk with them. I hope you're okay. Has anything good happened to you? I really hope so, please believe me. If good things are happening to me, I want even better things for you. I don't really know what to say, I haven't gotten the hang of these letters yet. I'll write to you more later._

_Best wishes,  
Blaine_


	7. Little Bit of Good

**A/N- Must force myself to update more often. I know I say that I lot, but that's only because I haven't started doing it yet. Enjoy!**

A week passed before Sam called Kurt again. The man's name popped up on the screen of Kurt's phone, and he shook with anticipation as he waited a couple seconds before answering. He didn't want to seem desperate, after all.

"Hello?" Kurt said with nonchalance.

"Kurt? It's Sam."

"Oh! Hello, Sam." Mercedes' head shot up when she heard the sound of Sam's name leave Kurt's lips. She squealed and broke into a wide grin, but Kurt waved a hand at her to make her shut up. "How are you?"

"I'm great," he said warmly. "I'd be better if you would agree to go to dinner with me tonight, though."

Kurt blushed. "I'd love to go to dinner." Mercedes looked like she was having a seizure on the couch, but Kurt tried his best to ignore her. "Pick me up at seven? You remember the address, right?"

"Yeah, I think I can find my way again. I'll see you at seven then." Sam let out a small laugh, adding, "Look good for me."

"Wouldn't think of doing any different," Kurt said, feeling his cheeks pink. "Bye." He hung up the phone and turned back to Mercedes, who had calmed down enough to get a few words out.

"So... Dinner with Sam tonight."

"That's right," he replied, going back to the Vogue he had been skimming. "What's your point?"

"Is that really all you're gonna do? Eat dinner?" She waggled her eyebrows and smirked. Kurt merely rolled his eyes.

"Yes, that is all we're going to do. I have my first rehearsal tomorrow, remember?" He grabbed a pink packet off the coffee table, the script he had to pick up from Mr. Richards' office a few days ago. "I don't need to be tired at rehearsal because I-"

"Stayed up all night making sweet love to a beautiful man who's had a thing for you since high school?"

Kurt blushed and suddenly became very interested in a freckle on his arm. "Yes."

Mercedes giggled and focused her attention on her sewing machine. She turned it on again and started working the shimmering blue fabric past the needle. "Thought so. You might wanna start getting ready, it's already four o'clock and the Kurt I know takes the entire day to get ready for a date."

Kurt's eyes grew wide. His head wiped around to the clock, and he saw that it was indeed four in the afternoon. "Shit! Code Red! Go find that sweater I like while I shower, please."

"The blue one?"

"No, the black one. Wait!" He stopped his mad dash to the bathroom and stood there for a moment. "On second thought, yes, the blue one. Sam likes blue."

Mercedes held back a laugh. "Oh god," she mumbled. "I really hope he got over that Avatar thing, or you're _definitely _going to be tired tomorrow."

* * *

"The first thing we need to do is change your name."

The band members shared confused glances at one another. "We- we very recently changed our name, Mr. Cunningham," Joe said. He seemed to be the only one brave enough to speak at their meeting. A middle aged man sat across from them in his large office. Blaine felt uncomfortable under the Johnathan Cunningham's gaze, like he was being appraised like a cow going to the slaughter. The man's dark eyes asked, How much are you going to make me? He even had the word 'cunning' in his name, and Blaine would've pictured him as a fox if it weren't for his abnormally large stomach. Though his outward appearance didn't lend itself to the mental image, Blaine was sure that's what the agent was on the inside.

"It doesn't quite fit the... _mold _we're looking for," Cunningham said in his low voice, a voice almost as oily as the top of his balding head.

"That's what we were going for," May chimed in quietly, somehow finding the courage to speak. "We don't really want to fit a mold."

Cunningham shook his head. "That's not how you get into this business." The large man stood and paced around his desk. He ran his fingers over the backs of their chairs, lingering near Phoenix and crouching low to speak with them face-to-face. "Yeah, you need some originality. Talent always helps. But what us agents are really looking for," he continued in a harsh voice, standing and walking back to his seat, "Is a compliant group of people to become the next big headline. That's what sells."

Blaine's jaw dropped slightly. He hadn't expected this man to speak to them in such a straightforward manner. It was almost respectable, but it would've been better if he were saying something they actually wanted to hear.

No matter. As long as Blaine made it to the top, he didn't much care.

"So, after listening to your sound, our producers have come up with the name Tainted Glory. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" The hard edge to Mr. Cunningham's voice was gone, now replaced with the slick tone of a businessman. "A good name for a rock band."

Blaine nodded frantically, eager to please the agent who was offering him a future. He looked at his friends as he did so, but they seemed to nod with much less enthusiasm. Cunningham gave Blaine a small smile.

"We've also decided you need a front man, someone who will represent the band." His head turned towards Blaine. The man folding his hands together on the desk. "Mr. Anderson, we think that should be you."

* * *

"You really do look fantastic," Sam said, looking Kurt over once more. "That sweater brings out your eyes."

Kurt blushed scarlet. He was glad he went with the blue sweater, and wearing the tightest pants in his closet probably didn't hurt the situation either. He pushed one of the tiny red potatoes around on his plate shyly as he replied, "That's the fourth time you've told me that."

"Is it?" Sam asked innocently. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little distracted."

"By what?" Kurt asked, though he already knew the answer.

"You. I seriously can't believe I'm here with you." Sam shook his head and let out a content sigh. "Thank you for coming out with me tonight."

Kurt beamed at his date. "Wouldn't miss it for the world, Sammy." Sam blushed at his old nickname and looked at his plate, absentmindedly twirling a piece of pasta. "Can I ask you something?" Kurt said quietly.

"Shoot."

"When did you, ummm... When did you finally come out? You know, like-"

"I know what you mean," Sam said with a laugh. "I came out in college. I got a pretty amazing scholarship from football and left the state for school. I guess I just felt more comfortable with it when I was away from home, you know what I mean?"

Kurt smiled, thinking back to that year when New Directions went to New York City. He fondly recalled seeing two men walk down the street holding hands, and he remembered feeling like he could do anything, be anything, anything his heart desired. Just not in Ohio. "Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. So why did you come back?"

"I wanted to see Stevie and Stacy grow up," he said, staring off into the distance. "They just.. really mean a lot to me. I couldn't leave their lives completely, that would break my heart." Kurt smiled at Sam, trying to hold back the tears he could feel welling up in his eyes. He reached a hand across the table to take the blond's.

"That's so sweet," Kurt said quietly, feeling overcome with emotion for the other man. "You must really love them."

"I do," Sam replied just as quietly. "I love all kids, actually. I want my own someday, or at least adopt one." Kurt took a sharp breath, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling he got in his chest at the thought of Sam's future. Who would he want standing there with him, helping him hold a darling little baby in his arms and caring for it like nothing else in the world was more important? Then Kurt realized he was probably being creepy. Just because Sam wanted kids someday doesn't mean he wants the two of them to start a family together. He was pulled from his thoughts by a whispered question from across the table. "Why did you stay here?"

"What?" Kurt asked, not entirely sure if he had heard correctly.

"Why didn't you leave Ohio? You could've gone to an acting school, or somewhere better for your line of work. Why didn't you?"

Kurt stuttered, looking at anything but Sam's face. He knew what had held him back all these years, but had never said it out loud. Sam seemed to get the message.

"Oh. Him."

"Yeah." Kurt's grip on Sam's and tightened. "Him."

* * *

Spencer folded her arms over her apron. She watched Blaine drink his coffee on the other side of the café counter. "I don't know about this, Blaine. He seems kinda sleazy."

"Yeah, I know," Blaine replied, downing the last few drops of the bitter liquid. "But at least he was straightforward with us. And who knows, this might lead to a lot more. Tainted Glory could make it to the big time!"

She shook her head. "I hate that name. It doesn't sound like you guys; you're genuinely good people, and that name makes it sound like... like-"

"Like we don't deserve anything we've got?" Blaine offered. "Because that's what it reminds _me _of. And maybe we don't!" He added, throwing his hands up. "Maybe there are hundreds of bands out there who deserve this more than we do. But the four of us were chosen, and god dammit we should get to reap the benefits!"

Spencer sighed heavily. She threw the towel she had been using to wipe down the counter over her should and went to make a fresh pot of coffee. "I don't wanna talk about this. Anything I might say will go in one ear and out the other with you." She stopped talking momentarily to take a customer's order, then busied herself to make the woman's sandwich.

"Fine. Scott likes you."

Spencer jumped and dropped the mustard knife on the ground. She scrambled to pick it up and gave the woman an apologetic smile, promising to get a new knife. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said after calming down.

"You're lying through your teeth, Spencer. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

She gave the customer her turkey sandwich and put her elbows on the counter. "Okay, maybe I know what you're talking about..."

"You need to ask him out. _Soon_," Blaine added. "I'm getting tired of the sexual tension between you people."

"I can't ask him out!" Spencer yelped. "I'm the girl, _he's_ supposed to ask _me _out."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Heterosexuals," he muttered in exasperation under his breath. "Fine, I'll talk to him tonight."

* * *

"Be quiet, Sam." Kurt turned his key in the lock ever so slowly. He pushed the door to Mercedes' apartment open, wincing as the door creaked. "If she catches you up here, I'm dead."

"She'd be that mad?" Sam asked incredulously.

"No, but she'd never let me live this down. I would literally die of embarrassment."

Sam laughed quietly. "That's adorable," he said. Kurt smiled back at him and fluttered his eyelashes, begging to be kissed. Sam obliged, leaning over to press their lips together lightly. He pulled away and turned to the door, but Kurt put an arm around the man's neck and pulled him back.

"Where do you think you're going, mister?" He asked playfully.

"I was gonna go home," Sam said, confused. "Don't you have rehearsal tomorrow?"

Kurt shrugged. "We can be quick. Plus, I always sleep better with someone next to me..." He tugged at Sam's hand and led him to his bedroom, not caring this time how much the door creaked.

Sam was fighting his every instinct to just let this happen. He knew Kurt would regret it in the morning, what with his first rehearsal. "Yeah, we can probably be quick, but can we be quiet?"

Kurt giggled and stood on the tips of his toes to kiss Sam again. He ran his tongue across Sam's lower lip and forced them to part, now working his tongue across Sam's teeth. He pulled away just long enough to ask, "We'll never know unless we try, now will we?" He began to drag Sam to the bed and pushed him down on it, eagerly straddling the blond's hips and working his shirt off. Sam let him continue, knowing he could never deny Kurt what he wanted.

Kurt tugged off Sam's shirt and pressed him into the mattress. He was kissing his way down the man's chest when he was flipped over. Now Sam had taken over, running his hands under Kurt's sweater and across the pale skin of his chest. Kurt gave up on rational thought and let out a low moan as Sam worked his way farther down, peeling off his clothes in the process. Kurt waited, breathing heavily with his eyes closed in bliss as he wondered what his lover would do next.

He felt cold air rush over his cock, but it was soon replaced by Sam's hot breath. Kurt groaned and pulled Sam up to his lips by the hair, kissing him roughly. "No, I want-"

"No, not tonight," Sam said soothingly, knowing exactly what Kurt was whining for. "You'll kill me if you go to rehearsal walking funny tomorrow."

Kurt growled and started biting at Sam's neck, encouraged by Sam's low gasps. "I'll kill you if you don't fuck me into this mattress."

Sam just laughed and pulled away from Kurt's grip, running his hands and lips from the man's neck to his chest, all the way to his inner thigh. Kurt moaned again. Maybe he could live with just this for the night, maybe- _Oh holy hell he could definitely live with this_.

Sam's mouth was warm around him as he worked up and down, taking all of him in at once. Kurt could feel his cock hit the back of Sam's throat, and he grasped wildly at the sheets when Sam hummed around him and sucked hard. His eyes rolled back and his back arched. Kurt's hands flew to Sam's hair of their own accord and twisted the dirty blonde hair. It was as if Sam knew exactly what he wanted, because soon Sam was relaxing his throat and going deeper, making Kurt buck his hips forward as he slid all the way out and back down again. Kurt felt Sam's tongue flit past his head and there was that tightening in his stomach, quickly spreading across his whole body until everything clenched and he came spectacularly with a cry of Sam's name. The brunet still had stars in his eyes when Sam pulled away, and he shuddered at the sudden cold. The sleepy man ran his hands over his lover's body, which was now snuggled against him.

"I should-"

"It's fine, I already did." Sam pressed a feather-light kiss to Kurt's back and intertwined their hands. "It didn't take much, those _noises_..." Kurt blushed scarlet, and he was very glad it was so dark in the bedroom. Sam laughed and set his head against the crook of Kurt's neck. "We probably woke Mercedes up."

"Oh, who gives a fuck?"

* * *

"Just go talk to him," Blaine said, pushing Spencer forward. She kept backing away and trying to move from the reach of her friend's hands, but he wouldn't allow it. "Trust me, you'll be glad you did."

Spencer swallowed hard and nodded, but made no effort to move. Blaine rolled his eyes and poked his head out from behind the woman. "Hey, Scott!" He waved his arms in the air and dragged Spencer into the club.

"Hey, man. Hey, Spence." Scott dropped the rag he had been wiping down the bar with and looked them both over. "You guys need something? You dropping stuff off for the gig tonight?"

Blaine nodded, holding up his guitar case. "I'll just bring this around back." He walked away from the two, but they barely noticed. Blaine walked as slowly as possible and when he finally returned, Spencer and Scott were grinning like crazy people. "You ready to go, Spence? We still gotta grab lunch..."

She nodded and muttered a hasty good bye to Scott, then ran out the door behind her roommate. He waited until the walked a full three blocks before interrogating her.

"So... How did it go?"

Spencer stared off into space with a shell shocked expression. "I- I think I have a date on Saturday."

Blaine grinned. "That's great!" He shouted, clapping her on the back. "But just so you know, it's only Thursday. Please don't tell me you're gonna be like this until then."

Spencer furrowed her blonde eyebrows and looked over at Blaine. "I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention... What did you say?"

Blaine laughed. "Maybe you will be like this until then."

* * *

Kurt yawned and pressed his back against the warmth behind him. His eyes fluttered open, and their gaze landed on the smiling face of Sam Evans. "Hey you," the blond said, pressing a chaste kiss to Kurt's cheek.

"Good morning to you too," he said with a giggle. Kurt yawned again and rolled over, now directing his gaze to the calendar on the nightstand. "Shit. Shit!" He jumped out of bed and ran to the closet, pulling out a soft gray t-shirt and his dancing tights. "Sam, you gotta go, I have to get ready and you need to leave before Mercedes catches you!"

Sam sighed. "She already caught me, I got up to piss and she was waiting to ambush me." Kurt would've laughed at the statement, had it not been said on a day where he was so busy. "She wants me to tell you that you're rather loud."

"Oh god..." Kurt groaned and flopped on his bed. "How much did she hear last night?"

"Enough to know you should do that stuff while people aren't trying to get some sleep."

Kurt's eyes grew wide. He whirled around to face the door and spotted Mercedes, looking like she didn't know whether to be angry or amused. He sincerely hoped she went with amused. "H- Hey Cedes," he said in a shaky voice. "How are you?"

"Tired," she replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "Put some pants on, baby, I made you guys breakfast but I refuse to sit with you if you're naked." Kurt looked down and realized he was completely nude. A blush spread across his entire body, and he politely asked Mercedes to shut the door so that he could die on the floor in peace.

* * *

"Now this is just a dry run, Kurt. Give it your best shot, okay?"

Kurt nodded at Mr. Clark, but he knew he was going to give it more than a shot. He was gonna blow the director out of the water.

_When I was a tiny tot  
__Of maybe two or three  
__I can still remember what  
__My mother said to me..._

_Place rose colored glasses on your nose  
__And you will see the robins  
__Not the crows  
__For in this tense and tangled web  
__Our weary lives may weave  
__You're so much better off  
__If you believe..._

_That there's a little bit of good  
__In everyone  
__In everyone you'll ever know  
__Yes, there's a little bit of good  
__In everyone  
__Though many times, it doesn't show_

_It only takes the taking time  
__With one another  
__For under every mean veneer  
__Is someone warm and dear  
__Keep looking..._

_For that bit of good in everyone  
__The ones we call bad  
__Are never all bad  
__So try to find that little bit of good!_

_Just a little, little bit of good  
__Is someone warm and dear  
__Keep looking..._

_For that little good in everyone  
__Although you meet rats  
__They're not complete rats  
__So try to find that little bit of good!_

Mr. Clark smiled, and Kurt could hear the muttering of the other actors and actresses sitting in the red velvet seats. "Fantastic," the rotund man said. "Now, from the top..."

**A/N- Oh. Hello Klainers... hehehe. Ummm... Please don't hate me (OMG JUST USED THE TITLE OF THE FIC IN THE AUTHOR'S NOTE!) but I thought that Kum smut needed to go in there. That was my first true smut, actually. So... yeah. *runs to hide* Will it make it up to you if I put some Klaine sex in there? I know just where to put it too...**


	8. Follow Your Dreams

**A/N- Hello! This chapter made me cry while writing it, I just wanted to give you guys a heads up... And for those of you who don't know the story of Chicago, in the end Mary Sunshine (the report covering Roxie and Velma's cases) is revealed to be a man in the final courtroom seen as proof that things aren't always what they seem to be (because the whole play the countertenor playing Mary is dressed in drag). Mary being in disguise is a metaphor for how no one knows the "true" story of what happened when Roxie killed her lover and blah blah blah that's not really important. Just thought I'd let you know. Enjoy!**

_Four months later..._

"Things are not always," the guy playing Billy ran over to Kurt and ripped his coat off, "What they seem." Kurt made an exaggerated face of astonishment and ran off stage, sobbing into his hands. As soon as he was safely behind the thick curtains and he heard the telltale popping sound of his microphone being shut off, the actor clapped his hands and let out the breath he had been holding the entire performance. All he had to do now was wait for the curtain call, then venture out and greet the crowd under those blazing stage lights. For now, he had the opportunity to head back into the green room and relax.

Kurt shrugged off his heavy fur coat and set it over the back of a chair, putting his tiny hat and wig on the seat. He walked past a few dancers who were smoking in the corner and grabbed his cell phone to check the time. Surprisingly, there was a text from Sam flashing on the screen.

_Opening night! You're doing great :) You look amazing xoxo -Sam_

Kurt blushed and smiled, but didn't reply. He would have to chide Sam for using his cell phone in the theater on the way home. For now he would sit here, rereading the message with a goofy grin until he had to join the other cast members onstage.

* * *

"Spencer!" Blaine ran up to his roommate, completely interrupting her phone conversation with Scott. "Spencer, you have to look at this."

She sighed and apologized quickly to her boyfriend before setting the phone down. "What is this?"

"Oh, not much," Blaine said with nonchalance. "Just the cover to Tainted Glory's latest demo CD."

"Oh my god!" Spencer snatched the plastic case away from Blaine and looked over the track list on the back. The band's five songs were printed in a bold white font against the black background, surrounded by a series of Gothic waves. She smiled and flipped the case over, but the next sight made her happiness falter.

"Why is your face so big?" She asked, squinting to catch a glimpse of Phoenix, May, and Joe in the background.

"I don't know," Blaine said with a shrug. "I guess Mr. Cunningham just knows who the real star of this group is."

Spencer narrowed her eyes and looked up at Blaine. "'The real star?' I'm pretty sure all four of you are very talented, and I for one think-"

"Spence, lighten up." Blaine shook his hand at her and took his CD back. "Just be happy for me, alright?"

She scowled. "I wanna be happy for you, but this isn't just your achievement! I'm happy for the whole band."

"Yeah, that's nice." He put the disc into the stereo and let the music blast through the speakers. Blaine started rocking his head to the tune and put on a cocky smirk, suddenly crying, "Let's go celebrate! I'm buying drinks!"

Spencer stepped over to the stereo as calmly as possible to turn down the blaring music. "Drinks? Blaine, I don't think-"

"Oh, screw you, Spence. I'll be fine." Blaine grabbed his coat of the back of a kitchen chair and went to the door. "Are you coming or not?"

"You're being a dick."

"Take's one to know one," he replied, opening the door and stepping out into the hall without a backwards glance.

Spencer threw up her arms. "That doesn't even make any sense!" She yelled, but Spencer doubted Blaine could hear her. She shook her head and picked up the phone. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough to know you have to follow him," Scott replied. "This has all gone to his head, he thinks he's invincible right now. From what you've told me, he definitely isn't when it comes to alcohol."

Spencer sighed and grabbed her keys. "You're right. I would never forgive myself if he turned up dead in a gutter somewhere. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye, babe. Be safe!"

"Yeah, yeah," she replied sarcastically, hoping the love in her tone wasn't _too_ obvious. "Bye, Scott."

* * *

Kurt watched his two friends curiously as they conversed with somber expressions. Mercedes nodded and climbed into her car, but didn't start the engine. Kurt furrowed his brow as Sam sighed heavily, his shoulders heaving forward, and walked back to his boyfriend. "Hey."

"Hey..." Kurt said, letting the greeting trail as he looked over Sam's face. "Are you okay? You had a good time tonight, right?"

"Of course I did. You were amazing." Sam gave him a shaky smile and reached forward to take Kurt's hand, but second guessed himself and put both hands behind his back. "This is really hard..."

"What is?" Kurt asked, his body becoming ridged with fear.

"Kurt, I-" Sam puffed out a gust of air and said rapidly, "We can't be together anymore."

"Wh- what?" Kurt's mouth was left open slightly as he stared at Sam, hoping he had just misheard. "Why can't we be together anymore? Don't you love me?" He asked, his voice cracking.

"Of course I love you!" Sam's hands came forward and pulled Kurt into a tight embrace. Kurt was shaking against Sam's chest as he listened closely to the man's next words. "That's why I have to break this off, Kurt. Trust me, I don't want to."

"Then why?" Tears began to well in Kurt's eyes. He closed his eyelids as the salty droplets clung to his eyelashes. "Why can't we be together if we love eachother?"

Sam sighed. "You know the expression, 'If you love something, you must set it free?'" Kurt nodded, waiting with bated breath for Sam to continue. "That's what I'm doing. Blaine always said he loved you, but he kept you from reaching your dream! I'm not gonna do that to you."

Kurt choked on a sob, his tears finally spilling over. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I want you to go live your dream," Sam said slowly. He kissed Kurt's eyelids and pressed their foreheads together. "I saw you up there, you were amazing. You deserve to become an actor and be on Broadway. And I'm not gonna force you to stay in Ohio and be with me like _he_ did." Kurt took a shaky breath as he felt a pair of lips ghost over his, a gesture that felt so distant despite all the feelings behind it. "I'm gonna stay here in Lima to be with my family, and you're gonna go be a great actor. Then, when my brother and sister are all grown up and you're a big star, I'll be right here waiting for you. As long as you still want me, I'll be waiting."

"How- how will you know?" Kurt sobbed out. "How will you know I still want you?"

Sam gave him a sad smile before pulling away from the countertenor. "I'll know." He brushed a strand of hair from Kurt's forehead and started to walk to his car. "I told Mercedes to wait for you, she's gonna drive you home," he said softly over his shoulder. "Good bye, Kurt."

Sam's car revved up and drove away. Kurt could only watch as it was slowly absorbed into the darkness. "Good bye, Sam."

* * *

"This is bullshit!" Phoenix cried, chucking the CD case across the room. "Anderson is the last guy to join the band and _he's the one to get all the credit?_" She scowled and let out a shrill scream. "THIS IS BULLSHIT!"

Joe raised his hands up in front of her chest to try and calm the woman down. "It's alright, it's alright! It's just a demo, we still have time to change the cover. We'll just talk to Mr. Cu-"

"Oh, he doesn't give a shit about us, Joe!" May was getting worked up now too, joining Phoenix in her mad rampage to destroy their practice room at The Outer Edge. "Don't be so fucking naïve."

"Don't act like this is my fault!" He yelled back. "If we just talk to him maybe- Phoenix! Where the hell are you going?"

She gripped the door and fixed her steel gaze on Joe. "I'm off to the grocery store. I think I'll buy you some shampoo to wash your hair with when you finally PULL YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS!" She threw the door all the way open and stomped out, closely followed by May.

"Seriously, Joe. There's nothing we can do about this." May shook her head and turned to leave, muttering about the cruelty of show business. The women left so fast that they didn't notice Blaine standing just beyond the door frame.

* * *

"Kurt, get up. You have a show tonight."

Kurt groaned into his soggy pillow and waved his hand in Mercedes' face, trying his best to make her and the rest of the world disappear.

"Kurt! Sam did not break up with you so that you could cry in bed all day!" He rolled over when he heard his friend yelling. The sudden rush of light burned his sensitive eyes as he searched for her face. Mercedes sat on the side of his bed and gently stroked his hair. "Baby, I know this is hard-"

"Yeah, no shit."

"But you have to keep going!" Cedes gripped Kurt's hand with a feverish intensity. "After your last Chicago performance is over, Rachel agreed to let you stay with her. In New York City."

Kurt's lips quivered. "What?"

"You're gonna go make something of yourself, Kurt Hummel. You're gonna go to the Big Apple and become a star, just like Sam said you would."

"You really think I can do it?" He asked with a sniffle.

"Baby, I know you can do it. Now get up, we need to get your vocal cords warmed up. You're probably pretty hoarse from crying and I want you to do well tonight."

Kurt nodded and rolled out from under the covers, ignoring the dull ache in his head from crying.

* * *

Blaine pulled out a fresh sheet of paper, then grabbed his shoebox full of letters. Each one was dated and folded up in the overflowing box, and he was about to add another to the pile. He was going to need a new shoebox soon...

_Dear Kurt,_

_Can you believe them? It's not like I asked for Cunningham to make me the star. It's just the way things turned out. They think they're all high and mighty, but the only reason this band got off the ground is because of me. ME! I can't even believe it. I hope things are going better for you right now, because everything sucks here. Well, except for the fact that I have my own demo CD. You know that's always been my dream, to have my own CD. It's gonna be a reality soon, I can feel it._

_Best Wishes,  
__Blaine_


	9. Proud

**A/N- I'm going to do a huge jump into the future now! I had some stuff planned for Blaine but couldn't think of anything for Kurt, so I'll just skip ahead and do a flashback. Enjoy!**

**P.S.- Guess what couple will be reunited soon! ;D**

_One year later..._

"Spencer!" Blaine hung up the phone and ran into his roommate's bedroom, his face glowing. "Spencer, you wouldn't believe who I'm opening for!"

The blonde looked up from her textbook. "Who?"

"Blue October."

"What?" Blaine nodded proudly, and Spencer jumped out of her seat to hug her friend. "Blaine, that's great!" Spencer said, ruffling his thick curls. "You know, I wasn't sure if you would be able to make it without the others. I'm glad I was wrong."

Blaine thanked her and went to his room to indulge in his thoughts. To be honest, he didn't think he would make it without them either.

"_Guys, this isn't my fault." Blaine held his hands up in defense. "It's not like I asked for this."_

"_But you could ask Cunningham to change it," Phoenix said, circling the singer with a menacing look on her face. "He'll listen to you, you're his little _star_."_

"_Hey, lay off Blaine." Joe put a hand on the woman's shoulder and pushed her aside. "We're in this together. We're just lucky to have a CD in the first place. Besides, Blaine wrote most of the music. He deserves the credit."_

_May gave him an incredulous look. "And what are we, trained monkeys? We did just as much work as him!"_

"_QUIT TALKING LIKE I'M NOT EVEN HERE!" Blaine yelled, glaring at the other band members. All was quiet as they stared at him, and Blaine could only process one thought: He needed a drink. The others watched as Blaine walked to the mini fridge in the corner of their practice room and took a long gulp of beer._

_Phoenix was looking at Blaine unconcealed annoyance. "Will you talk to him?"_

"_What for?" Blaine asked after another long drink and a deep breath._

"_WHAT FOR? I'll kill him, I swear to God I'll-"_

"_PHOENIX!" Joe and May grabbed at her, but the feisty little redhead fought back._

"_I'm sick of this bullshit! Either he gives us some credit or-" Her voice cracked and her eyes dropped to the floor. "Or I see no point in being part of this band. Or should I say, this _one man show_."_

_Everyone looked to Blaine, wondering what would happen next. He looked Phoenix in the eyes, eyes that suddenly looked very vulnerable... and he shrugged._

_Those vulnerable eyes closed as she shook out her curls. When they opened once more, they were emotionless; no vulnerability, no sadness, not even the angry fire that Phoenix usually possessed. They were just... empty. "Fuck it," she said. It was Phoenix's turn to shrug, and she did so just before walking out the door. May watched and called out to her friend, and it wasn't long before she left too. Joe wasn't far behind._

Blaine looked down at that CD. He hadn't even realized he had been holding it. It was an original; it still had 'Tainted Glory' written across the top in Gothic letters. Blaine ran over to his CD rack and grabbed the newest copy. It just had his name printed across the top now.

* * *

"I'm gonna miss you so much!" Mercedes hugged Kurt close, practically crushing his ribcage.

"I'll come back and visit, I promise." He pushed away from her and gave his best friend a peck on each cheek. "It's been great living with you, Mercedes." She smiled and waved her hand at him, lost for words. They shared one last hug before Kurt had to climb into his taxi.

"I'll ship everything else out to you soon. Call me as soon as you land at JFK." Kurt nodded and thanked Mercedes, thanked her for everything she had done for him in this year and a half. The taxi driver threw his duffel bags in the trunk, ready to take the actor to the airport. "Give Rachel a hug for me," Mercedes said, her voice faltering.

"I will. I love you, Cedes."

"Oh, I love you too, baby. Good bye."

Kurt wiped away a tear. "Bye." The car door closed behind him, and soon Mercedes was just a spot in the distance. Kurt was ready to go live his dreams, now that he wasn't tied to Ohio. The house had been sold, there were no more gigs for him here, and Candice had transferred him to a sister agency in New York. All that was left were memories. Memories and people. But Kurt could make new memories, he could meet new people. He knew it was possible now.

* * *

"Blaine?" Spencer knocked at her friend's door. "Scott and I are going out, call me if you need anything, okay?"

He nodded, but was doubtful that he would need to call her. He was content to stay here, thinking of which song to open with at the Blue October concert. He had been working on a new piece for a while now, but he wasn't sure if it was ready.

But there was no time like the present to test it out, right?

Blaine grabbed his acoustic guitar and strummed a cord. He really hoped this would work.

_I've seen her face, I've heard her name  
__I've lost my place and she's to blame.  
__And I can't stand it when I'm staring in her eyes,  
__And she's not looking back  
__It ain't a big surprise_

_I've heard music, I've heard noise  
__I wish that she could hear her voice  
__The way that I do, when I go to sleep at night  
__And dream my life away  
__But she's gone when I awake_

_Sami  
__Sami  
__Why can't you see  
__What you're doing to me_

_The way her hair falls in her eyes, makes me wonder if  
__She'll ever see through my disguise, I'm under her spell  
__Everything is fallin', I don't know where to land  
__Everyone knows who she is  
__But she don't know who I am_

_Sami  
__Sami  
__Why can't you see  
__What you're doing to me_

_I've see you singin' on that stage,  
__Looking like an angel and all I do is pray  
That maybe  
__One day you'll hear my song and understand that all along  
__There's something more that I'm trying to say  
W__hen I say_

_Sami  
__Sami  
__Why can't you see  
__What you're doing to me  
What you're doing to me_

_Sami  
__Ooh when I say  
__Sami  
__When I say  
__Why can't you see  
__What you're doing to me  
__What you're doing to me_

Blaine jumped when he heard another knock at his door. "Spencer! I thought you left already!"

"I couldn't find my keys..." Spencer said slowly. "Was that a song about a girl?"

Blaine shrugged. It had become his signature move for when he didn't know what to say. "I thought it would go over better than if I sang about a guy."

"Well, is it about some guy in particular?" Blaine looked down at his guitar strings. He plucked at one to fill the awkward silence. Spencer understood perfectly. "It's really too bad his name doesn't fit in the lyrics. I bet he would like this song a lot." She walked out of the room, leaving Blaine to strum his guitar in peace.

* * *

"Kurt! There you are!" Rachel Berry ran up to her friend and threw her thin arms around him. "I've been waiting for so long!"

"Well I don't really control how fast the plane goes, sweetie."

"I know, I know." She shook off the comment and immediately regained her excitement. "So! Where do you want to go first?"

Kurt laughed. He watched as everyone bustled past, and he suddenly became very tired. "How about your apartment?"

Rachel crossed her arms over her atrocious paisley coat. "Fine. That's not much fun though."

"I need my beauty sleep, Berry. I have Jet Lag and I need to adjust to New York as soon as possible."

"Yes, you do, because..." Rachel paused for dramatic effect, but all it did was annoy Kurt. "I have an audition in two weeks! And you're auditioning with me!"

"WHAT? Rachel!" Kurt threw down his bag so that he could strangle her. "I'm supposed to be getting settled!"

"And what better way to get settled in the Big Apple than to experience its theater district first hand!"

"I hate you," Kurt said s he picked up his bag and started marking towards the exit.

"Will you hate me less if I tell you we're auditioning for Funny Girl? I think you would make a fabulous Eddie."

Kurt pursed his lips and refused to look Rachel in the eyes. "Okay. Maybe I hate you a little less."

* * *

Blaine stared at the blank sheet of paper in front of him. He had no idea what to write. He hadn't felt this good in so long, but still, something wasn't right with the world. He picked up his pen, scrawling the only thing that came to mind.

_Dear Kurt,_

_Are you proud of me?_

_Best Wishes,_

_Blaine_


End file.
